I imagine horses in the engine, their manes flying, their breaths steaming, their nostrils flaring as they gallop.

But all that is warm will go cold. My ears will fall off and my eyes will melt. My mouth will be clamped shut. My lips will turn to glue. ...No taste or smell or touch or sound.Nothing to look at. Total emptiness for ever.

The last few weeks, it was as if someone had taken his life to pieces and let him see the way it worked.

I miss him as soon as he goes. When he isn't with me, I think I made him up.

I shrug him off. 'Can't you just go away?" There's a moment. It has a sound in it, as if something very small got broken.

Do you want this to be a love story?

I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't.